


A Constant and Necessary Fiction

by Ponderosa



Category: Dark City (1998)
Genre: M/M, Superpowers, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-02
Updated: 2010-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:12:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponderosa/pseuds/Ponderosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The soul is nebulous, the wrench in the works, and where matter bends to his will, so eventually might his very perception of the seemingly inevitable flow of past to future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Constant and Necessary Fiction

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: godhood

Among many things, Daniel has told John that time is a constant and necessary fiction. Daniel, who he has known forever, who never ages and who changes only in the manner of his dress.

One day John may master this fiction, Daniel tells him. The soul is nebulous, the wrench in the works, and where matter bends to his will, so eventually might his very perception of the seemingly inevitable flow of past to future. Daniel tells him many things, and there is an urgency in his voice that John only now begins to understand.

"Hello John," Daniel says. He pauses in the middle of mopping the warehouse floor.

John's hands are bloodied. He's killed a woman with his Tuning, shredded her to ragged pieces with his mind alone. Five years from now he'll wake up believing he's done the same. Only then it will be a lie, a fabrication and a gap in his mind that will lead him ultimately to the moment he can feel waiting for him, the nexus of the web of his self where the vibrations are so strong he can't focus on them.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this, but my library of memories is more limited than it was. And you should be prepared for what's to come. You will need to kill, John, but you should never enjoy it."

His horror is thick as soot on his tongue. How could anyone enjoy snuffing out the life of another being? He'll carry this stain for eternity, wear it in the inevitable godhood that Daniel promises.

"I'm sorry," Daniel says, again. He shifts the mop to his left hand and clasps John's shoulder, a solid but fleeting comfort before the years speed by. With Daniel at his side, John learns evasion, deception, how to avoid making the mistake of killing again but always knowing– _knowing to his very core_ –that he is capable.

"I wish there could be another way," Daniel says, when time and time again John yearns for love, knows desire, interruption, frustration. Later, when Daniel appears in a perfect pinstriped suit, with his hair slicked back and the rim of his glasses reflecting the streetlamps, he doesn't seem to recognize that John's yearning has evolved along with his Tuning.

When the slam from past to present comes, when he rebuilds the world, his contentment fades in and out. Often his mind feels overfull, and to be with Emma feels like cheating in a game of chess where he knows all of his opponent's moves. It unnerves him like few things can.

It is early evening when he goes to the bathhouse, and Daniel's surprise at seeing him again strikes him like an arrow to the chest. The uncertainty of the moment quivers painfully against his ribs. He must fight for each breath. Daniel swims to the edge of the water, his skin glistening in light that is golden in hue. The bathhouse looks beautiful now. John has made it that way. "I've told you, I cannot give her back her memories."

John disrobes. His clothes drape themselves on a marble bench and steps form below his feet as he descends into the pool. "Neither can you take mine away." He considers what will happen if he could Tune minds as easily as he does this world. "You were not a kind teacher."

"My resources were scarce, my time even more so. Necessary evils, to which I hope you would agree," Daniel says. John has always admired how he does not shy away from the truth.

"I've built so much and yet not everyone is happy." John shivers as the heat of the water forces the chill from his bones, and Daniel shivers as he draws near. "What am I doing wrong, Daniel?"

The sad curve of Daniel's smile is fleeting. "Suffering defines our joy as men, just as shadows depend upon light."

"You are my shadow, aren't you." John touches him then, a light press of fingers on his jaw. The Strangers left a darkness on Daniel's soul that eclipses his own. He can feel their influence and the stifling loneliness that is the burden of knowledge.

"I have nothing more for you, John."

The water swirls around him, a pressure that subtly resists his will for it to part. Daniel resists as well, but only until John's mouth finds his and then he is pliant and moaning.

"I didn't mean for this," he says, as John moves to kissing his neck.

"But you want it." John pushes him back, hands on his shoulders until the edge of the pool stops them. A lifetime of wanting returns to him as his palms slide down Daniel's chest. He grasps Daniel's cock and it swells to fill his grip. "That's all I care about."

Daniel succumbs to him, limbs as malleable in the warm water as the stone which shifts so John can lay him back upon it, haul his legs higher and spread them wide. But it's clear in the glitter of his pale eyes how badly he wants this, that it's him and not just John who is shaping the moment. "Please. Now," he says, when John stands poised between his legs.

Tuning the water around them takes nearly all his concentration, but it turns to something as slick as oil, and John's gasp echoes through the chamber as he presses into Daniel, feels the hot clutch of flesh surround and accept him.

Friction returns as the slow rhythm of fucking into Daniel sends the water swaying, the slickness dispersing through the pool like a poorly built memory. John pushes to the root and holds there, using his hands on Daniel's cock and his mouth on Daniel's throat to make him moan and whimper. And finally to beg in a shattered voice for John to make him come.

Intent on the moment, John watches when he does, holds fast to the hard, gasping moment when Daniel's vision goes unfocused and his muscles seize. Time slips and John watches Daniel come all over again, shudders as he catches up to the present and fucks roughly into Daniel to meet his own end. He knows how it will overtake him, how he'll curl over Daniel and kiss him until their mouths are sore.

Ultimately he knows that this too won't last, that he will evolve into something that cares nothing for the animal pleasure of fucking or the exquisite hurt of love. He kisses Daniel anyway, sucks down the choppy, breathy moans that slip from Daniel's throat, and embraces the fiction of the present.


End file.
